What's Left Behind
by Prosper-the-XVIII
Summary: Post-Skyfall, pre-established 00M relationship. Sometimes it's not what a person does that's important, but what they leave behind...And this is too true in the case of a certain Raoul Silva. Why does this mysterious girl that goes under the alias of Lila seem intent on killing M and James, and why on earth does M want cleared for fieldwork again?
1. Chapter 1

**This is maybe a few months post-Skyfall, and for it to be possible, the death of a certain 'Evil Queen Of Numbers' never happened. This is in no way connected to Revenge, but features Lila, Silva's daughter and my OC. Pre-established 00M relationship.**

* * *

He was gone. Silva. He had been for some time now, but James could tell when he looked into the steely blue eyes of the woman he had come to love, he could tell that she was still far from recuperating. Not once in that day-long drive to the highlands did he ask her about what it had been like back then; when she was young and beautiful and reckless (that was, if she had ever actually been the last one. She still was the second,) and Silva the trainee assigned to her, revelled in her admiration. Never once, during those long weeks she was in hospital recovering from the gunshot wound in her hip she had received at Skyfall, did he say anything about him. But now, as she seemed to be struggling to see past the deep mental scars caused by the deranged, psychopathic ghost of her past, he wanted to know, and badly. To help her through it...

Well, after what had happened that day, he was going to have to find out at some stage now...

* * *

Out of sheer boredom whilst waiting for a debriefing on the events at Skyfall, which had somehow become an official mission, with M - or Evelyn, as she was to him now when they were alone. He never would've guessed that that was her name for some reason. It had surprised him, but pleasantly as he had always loved it - James found himself having a conversation with Tanner. He had always found that man dry as a piece of toast and completely expressionless, but he was bored to hell and back.  
"James, have you seen m recently?"  
"Tanner, in case it's escaped your notice, we've been living together for the past month. Yes, I have seen her recently."  
"No, here. I don't think she looks quite...right."  
"What, you mean ill?"  
"No, just...She's been completely dead behind the eyes for the past...ages. Plus, she kind of flinches whenever anyone brings up Silva."  
"Well, after the shit she's been through, I don't blame her. Look, if it makes you feel any better, I'll talk to her."  
"Thank you, James."  
"Don't suck up, Tanner. It might be your job, but it just doesn't suit you," James said as he glanced over his shoulder on his way into M's newly-rebuilt office. Thank god that was over.

M looked terrible. Like a ghost, in fact. It was really the only way of putting it. Her head was resting on her hands and she was staring at a computer screen. Like Tanner said, her eyes literally looked dead and her face was completely expressionless. James saw her close her eyes momentarily and breathe a heavy sigh when she saw him, but she straightened up and said; "James, what on earth are you doing here?"  
"Well, you told me to come here, and Tanner's just said to me that you've been looking like shit ever since you came back, so I was worried about you, naturally."  
"James, that's your problem. You worry too much, really. I mean, you can let me out of your sight for half a minute, you know."  
"Yes," James sat down in front of her desk, flicking the nose of her porcelain bulldog. M pulled the figurine out of his reach with one hand. "But after what happened, I think I'm allowed to be a bit too concerned when it comes to you. I love you, I don't want anything more to happen to you."  
"Well, I'm fine and I highly doubt that anything's going to explode or something like that in the next three minutes, so you can go. You have things that need done and so do I."  
He stood up to go, and was halfway across the room before he turned and said; "What about that debriefing?"  
"I'll do it tomorrow, James."  
"Evelyn, stop procrastinating. It's important."  
"You know that you don't get to use my name while we're at work. And I'm not procrastinating, Mallory's just insisted that I go to some oh-so-important meeting with him and the PM in about ten minutes. I'll see you tonight." M stood up and started to come around her desk to James, but he simply blew her a kiss from where he was standing. "I love-"

But he never got the chance to get the last word out. That was when the explosion happened.


	2. Chapter 2

**RebaForever15: Sorry! I know I shouldn't leave my stories at massive cliffhangers like that, so here's the next one!**

* * *

The force of the blast threw James against the wall, and he felt his nose grind and shatter against the hard plaster as something like a ring binder hit him in the back of the head. The explosion had subsided into flames, but this was only a little better. The pain starting in the center of his chest and now ebbing outwards made moving painful, but he turned his head, barely able to see as he made the realization that there was blood pouring down his face from a gash in his forehead, and inhaled a lungful of choking black smoke. His first instinct was _get out_, but when he noticed the wall of flame between the gaping hole now in the middle of the floor and where M's desk had been at some stage, he noticed in horror that he had no idea where she was. He couldn't find M. What if she'd been killed already? No, he thought, pushing the dark cloud of terror to the back of his mind, he just had no idea where she was. Wait, that wasn't good either. Almost screaming in panic, he yelled through smoke and inferno; "_EVELYN_!"

* * *

M had hit the window, and it was then that the thought _thank god bulletproof glass doesn't shatter, or else I'd have just fallen nine stories to my death _penetrated her mind. But that was the least of her worries by now. She hit the floor and felt her inside leg crumple underneath her, at the same time hearing the sickening 'crunch!' of breaking bones. Her stomach heaved at the noise, and that was when a rip of agony burst through her leg and spread to the whole of her lower half, white-hot and mind numbing. It wasn't that that scared her, though. She could deal with pain, but if her leg was broken, which was probably the most reasonable explanation for her injury, then it would mean that she couldn't walk. And if she couldn't walk then she wouldn't be able to get away from fire or whatever else was going on. Her office was still kind of under reconstruction, but the one main thing still to be put in was smoke alarms. Damn.

Something shook underneath her, and all that M could do to save herself was turn over so that her face wasn't to the ceiling and shield her head with her arms as the glass pane that made up her desk top fell on top of her and shattered on impact. She felt something cut her face, and there were tiny chips of glass down her shirt and in her hair. There was flames moving closer and closer to her, and she let out a pained scream as impossible heat brushed up the length of her already injured leg. This was it. Six months after Skyfall, and she was really going to die this time...

James, she thought in one last anguished burst of hope, where are you?

She slowly lifted her head, blood in her eyes and smoke drying out her mouth and turning her throat raw when she heard someone shout her name. Faintly, but she just heard it. "James..." She shouted a tad weakly, then broke into a fit of coughing. She regained control of her own breath, then tried again, rolling over so she was flat on her back, her shattered leg twisted painfully underneath her. "James, I'm here..."

* * *

His chest still burning in pain and his muscles heaving in protest, James ducked underneath what was left of M's desk to her. She looked as if she was on the brink of passing out, one leg twisted and broken, badly burned up the length of it, and a long gash down her cheek. He got his arm underneath her, gently lifting her legs from the floor with the other, and he watched her convulse in a spasm. Never had she looked so vulnerable, not even at Skyfall.  
'James..." she felt small and fragile in his arms as he scooped her off the ground and let one of her arms hang over her side. "It hurts..." James was frantically looking for a way out, but he quietly shushed M. Both were running out of breathable oxygen, so talking probably wasn't a great idea. His ribs were killing him, his arms were screaming in protest at having to take M's weight, but she meant more to him than even his own existence by both must've looked a complete state, but James could tell that M was beyond caring, and he couldn't be bothered to even check.

He stared at the glass panel that made up one wall. It was late at night; by now both Eve and Tanner had left, so neither were there to notice, so that was his one main hope. His back flat to the wall, body hunched, holding M that little bit lower and shielding her with his own form, James side-stepped along the wall to the glass area, then managed to pull off one of M's high-heeled shoes, M herself by this point slipping in and out of consciousness, and smashed through the wall with it. He burst through into M's reception space and then panicked a little; how was he supposed to go about getting them out? He knew that he needed to get M medical help and fast at that, but her office was on the top floor and the Med. Dept. was down below the ground floor in the very bowels of the MI6 HQ. Seeing this as the best option, James sprinted down the stairs with M, passing several people and attracting a lot of unwanted attention and concerned glances as he went, but he was on the ground floor fairly soon.

The one receptionist left down there, a ditsy red-haired twenty-something named Heather, gasped and dropped the phone she had had in her hand when James came into the main foyer, but after gasping for breath for a while, James said; "Look, Heather, there's no time to explain. Just call an ambulance. And quickly."


	3. Chapter 3

His hand gripped hers tight as she lay unconscious in the back of the ambulance, her broken leg strapped and paramedics running about frantic all over the place. James heard stilted parts of conversations barked into radios. Words kept coming up several times, so all he was really hearing was "Explosion...Mature woman and younger man...he's okay mostly...her...severely fractured leg and third degree burns...Might need stitches in a facial wound...possible surgery...Both inhaled a lot of smoke..." etc.

He was freaked out; all that had gone so fast. People always said that, but it had literally taken five minutes between the actual explosion and getting downstairs. It was pretty much a complete blur from there. Heather had gotten incredibly frustrated with with the operator on the other end of the line when they didn't know where MI6 was, Tanner had come through reception on his way out and he had just about had a panic attack when he saw M and Q had come up from his lab in a mad panic just as the ambulance and assorted other emergency services had arrived; he had apparently been the first person to actually notice what had happened upstairs that hadn't watched it happen. That was literally his full recollection of it.

A female paramedic in her late forties with dyed blonde hair cut into messy layers and maybe a little too much in the breast department, a bit like Dolly Parton, came and sat down beside him. "Hi," she said quietly. James noticed her Edinburgh accent. "My name's Gill. Who are..."  
"Bond." He stared fixedly at the floor, not looking at her. He hated it how people like her seemed to treat you like a complete imbecile. "James Bond."  
"Mr Bond. And who's this?" Gill gestured to M, who had someone crouched by her on one side fitting an oxygen mask over her face and somebody taking a closer look at her injured leg on the other.  
"Her name's Evelyn Cameron. Do you need a full name, because if you do, we'll be here forever." He was still refusing to make eye contact with this Gill woman, getting maybe a little more annoyed with her than he had any right to.  
"Mr Bond, I appreciate what's just happened and I'm trying my hardest not to make things worse, but could you please co-operate? What you've given me for her name is fine. And what relation is Evelyn to you? Mother?"  
"She's my partner." He could see her tapping something into the notes app of an iPad. She stared at him with an 'I'm typing up everything you say, so keep a civil tongue in your head' glare, then fastened her lips into that exaggerated smile again.  
"I see. Now, Mr Bond, do you have any clear recollection of how this happened?"  
"Well, I was standing in her office, then something blew up and I hit the wall and her the window. I think that's when her leg broke, I don't know, but her desk fell on top of her and smashed. Then I went under the desk and picked her up. One of the walls in there is made of glass; I smashed through it with her shoe and then went downstairs and called an ambulance."  
"Thank you. See, that wasn't too difficult, was it? I can see that you've got that nasty cut on your head and you've broken your nose, do you think that you've done any damage elsewhere?"  
"My ribs kind of hurt after I started moving around, but that's pretty much it."  
"Right. Thanks for that, are you okay for the moment?"  
He simply nodded, and she walked off to pester someone else. Thank god that was finally over.

* * *

On arrival at the hospital, M was rushed off on a stretcher, and James had absolutely no idea where to. He just stood, feeling like an absolute tube, until Gill came up behind him.  
"Oh good god, not you again."  
'Mr Bond, I would appreciate it if you at least tried to acknowledge that I'm trying to help you and Evelyn. She's going off for a separate examination. Her injuries are incredibly severe and she may require surgery, so I wouldn't bank on seeing her until tomorrow at least. Now do you mind coming with me to get checked out?"  
James shrugged her off, glaring. "I'm fine." And with that, he stormed off. He didn't know where to, but he knew he had to get there and fast.


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, I've decided to use more than one of my OCs in the next few chapters. If you've read either my profile or Revenge, you'll know who she is. Thank you to RebaForever15...who I also unintentionally out in the previous chapter :) **

* * *

"How is she?" James stood outside of M's room in the hospital, the flowers he had bought for her earlier in his hand, leaning against the wall and looking to the young, pale-skinned nurse just leaving the room. It had been little more than a day since the episode at the MI6 HQ, but the night alone in her apartment had felt like years. After performing a little DIY first aid on the two-inch gash on his head with some wetwipes and the biggest Elastoplast he could possible find, he had kind of sat up awake, stressing about M, and as a result, he felt like death and probably didn't look too much better.  
"Evelyn? Oh, better," the younger nurse said vaguely, her hand toying with the black crucifix necklace at her throat. "We're expecting her to be coming round at any point within the next two hours, though she has been under a general anesthetic, so when she does I would expect her to be a bit groggy."  
James looked to the floor, not wanting the slight sadness, yet overjoyed relief at the fact that M was going to be okay show on his face. He looked up again, and then asked; "How are her injuries?" It took him a couple of tries to get the last word out. He had found out at Skyfall - no, at White's interrogation when he thought that she had been shot, and, judging by the look on her face when she used her right arm for the next few weeks, probably had been now that he thought about it - that he didn't handle seeing her in pain at all well.  
"Well, the good news is that the burns to her leg weren't nearly as severe as we first feared. The area was so large that she did require a skin graft, but there's unlikely to be any lasting damage. The cut in her face needed something along the lines of eight stitches, along with a bunch of smaller cuts that needed about two or three each, but it's probably not going to scar too badly. The bone damage caused when she hit the window was pretty bad; her tibia broke in three places and cracked in another two. We surgically inserted a few titanium pins into the bone to help quicken her recovery, but all in all, there's nothing that time won't heal. Out of curiosity, are you a direct relation to her?"  
"Well, she's my partner and we've been living together for the past month and a bit, does that count?"  
"Would you like in to see her?" She smiled at him, but not falsely like that Gill woman the previous day.  
"Thank you, you are an absolute lifesaver," and he pushed open the door to M's room.

He smiled a little when he saw her in bed, looking for all the world as if she was simply asleep. She wasn't hooked up to anything, thank god; the notion of the woman he loved depending on a machine to keep her alive scared the shit out of him, and as her leg was under the sheets, the only real sign of injury on her was the slightly bloody dressing on her cheek. He walked over, sat on the plastic seat at her bedside and gently kissed her forehead. "Please wake up soon, my beautiful girl," he whispered softly into her ear. "I love you..."

* * *

M blinked a little, taking in her sterile surroundings, and turned her head as far as her current position would allow to see James Bond sat next to her, an absolute migraine of a bunch of flowers in his lap and both of his hands gripping one of hers. Smiling a little, despite the ever-constant pain in her right leg and the fact that the skin on one side of her face was pulled taut by something stuck to it, she said slowly; "James...do you mind letting my hand go? You're hurting me." Where on earth did that come from? It had taken an effort to speak at all, and the sound that at last came out was far from her own familiar voice. Her throat was sore and raw; her voice harsh and about an octave lower than usual, as if she'd been swallowing gravel.  
"Sorry," he let her go and she pulled her arm back so her hand was folded across her chest. It was only when she saw the black stitch covered in congealed blood in the webbing between her thumb and forefinger that she remembered what had happened.  
"Oh, god, how long have I been out?"  
"Just short of a day. You inhaled an absolute hell of a lot of smoke, so you were passed out before you even got here. You do remember what happened?"  
"Yes and no. I remember hitting the window and the glass falling on top of me, but that's pretty much it. I remember I heard something snap when I fell, and now everything below my waist hurts like hell and I can't move my ankle, am I right in thinking that my leg's broken?"  
"Yes," James said slowly. "And don't bother coming out with any of your usual 'I'm fine' rubbish, because do you see where that got you at Skyfall? It doesn't prove anything, it just makes you look stupid. It's bad; you needed surgery for god's sake. And I know you have a problem with me being concerned about you but, Evelyn, when I couldn't see you and I thought you'd died...well, it scared me half to death."  
'It wasn't too fun for me, either," M said flatly, turning her eyes to the flowers in James's lap again. "I can see a lot of careful planning went into those." She eyed the bouquet, which was roses dyed a painful shade of hot pink.  
"There wasn't a lot of choice at that M&S downstairs."  
"Proving my point. Thank you anyway, James," she wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him into a rather awkward kiss; since she was lying flat on her back, it was a little difficult. "Just wondering, when am I likely to be able to go back to work?"  
"Honest to god, woman, you're not thinking about that yet, surely? Not any time soon, I'll tell you that. You've had a shit few months and now this's happened, I think that you need to just slow down and let yourself heal. Once you've been released from hospital, you're spending six weeks at home and nothing less, do you hear me? I'll be there to take care of you, but you need to look after yourself a little more and not spend your life worrying about MI6."  
"You said that last time and I was still back within the month," M pointed out. "You know I'm a complete workaholic, it's probably going to take more than a broken leg to stop me."  
"Yeah, about that. You kind of can't go back until your office is finished being rebuilt again. So I think you'll be staying at home unless you want to share with Mallory."  
"Oh, bloody _hell!"_ At least she was swearing again; that gave him a little hope that she was kind of on the mend already. "Well, thanks to that, you might find keeping me in a little easier."

* * *

James didn't leave until M was asleep at around ten o'clock that night, and only then did he go because he was kind of being kicked out due to the fact it was now 'well outside of visiting hours'. As he left, he planted a small kiss on M's lips and murmured into her hair; "Oh, Evelyn. I'm going to find who did this to you and I'll make them pay if it's the last thing I do..."


	5. Chapter 5

**It's time to meet my first OC who I am adding to the story! Remember the name; in one of my other fics, she's a Bond Girl in training. (I have a poster that says that)**

* * *

Three days of sitting around at M's bedside later, and James walked into her room to find his usual seat occupied by a woman in her early thirties with sandy blonde hair tied in a bun at the nape of her neck. M was sitting up talking to her, but she looked to James as he stepped into the room. "Hello," she said brightly,smiling, the glow usually in her eyes finally back. "Oh, Summer, this is James, by the way." The woman by M's side stood up, turning to James. He had been looking at the back of her head, and when she looked at him, he saw the exact same steel-flecked blue eyes and high cheekbones as M. She also happened to be wearing the kind of black skirt and long-sleeved blouse typical of M as well. "Summer," her voice was freakishly similar to M's too.  
"Are you..."  
"Yes, I'm M's daughter. You are?"  
"Bond. James Bond. I'm guessing that you've heard a lot about me, because if not, someone's in trouble," he flashed a smile at M, who raised an eyebrow. "Really, I swear to god, I've seen you before."  
"I work for MI6 as well," Summer pushed a lock of hair from her face nervously. "008. Oh, meet Vivian," Summer toed a girl who had been sitting cross-legged on the floor, her nose buried in a tattered, dogeared copy of _Mockingjay. _James honestly hand't noticed her until now."Say hi, Viv." The girl, who looked about twelve with blonde hair tied in a side braid and was wearing a t-shirt with 'Styled by Cinna' written on it - whatever the hell that meant - turned round, still sitting and said cheekily; 'Hi, Viv."  
"Stop being so bloody antisocial! Honestly, Vivian, I'm pretty sure that the sky could fall on your head and you wouldn't notice when you've got your face in that damned book. Yeah, that's my daughter. Look, we've been here for hours - just back from holiday, you see. We only found out yesterday and we had to cut short by a week - if you'd like some time alone, then we'd be more than happy to go. Besides, I need to get Viv back to school, don't I?"  
"No, no you do not," the young girl said pointedly, not looking up from her book."I'm sure that my teacher's related to President Snow."  
"Vivie, listen to your mum," M said. "I'll see you soon, not that you'll mind either way; you've barely said a word to me." M smiled to her as Vivian stood up, not looking at James or M, though James saw tears in her eyes. M apparently picked up on this too. "Vivie, darling, what's wrong?"  
The girl walked over to M, before hugging her tightly and saying quietly; "I'm just worried. I love you. I don't like seeing you like this..." James could scarcely keep from crying himself as he watched M run her hand through Vivian's hair gently as the girl shook with silent sobs. "Shh, Viv, I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Vivian sniffed and nodded as she pulled out of M's embrace, her face blotchy. Summer and Vivian then both walked out, and James sat down beside M.  
"Just a brief look into my family life," M sighed. "Over-emotional granddaughter with a twice-divorced female equivalent of you for her mother. I honestly have no idea who Summer gets all her flirtatiousness from, because her father couldn't have chatted up a piece of toast and it's certainly not from me. James, if you even think about leaving me for my daughter, I will literally strangle you an that's not a threat, it's a promise."  
He smiled and pulled her into a kiss. "Why on earth would I do that?"

M stared at the ceiling after she and James had separated and said; "I'm beginning to think that I'm employing a bunch of heartless bastards to be honest. Apart from Summer and Vivie, you're the only person who's bothered to come and visit me. I got a phone call from Tanner earlier saying that he hopes I'm on the mend and that Mallory's temporarily in charge again, but that's literally it."  
"Surely to god you're not complaining though? You're always going on about how much Mallory gets on your nerves."  
"You have a point. Still, I can't say I'm not surprised about Tanner not showing himself."  
"The man practically faints at the sight of his own blood, it's maybe for the best. Still, you've got me."  
M put her arms around his neck. "If someone told me twelve years ago when I first met you that I would find that comforting now, I would've made sure they had a CAT scan."


	6. Chapter 6

Within the next fortnight, M was released from hospital, and James somehow managed to blag another week off from Mallory so that he could be with her. The time passed quickly in a rush of pointless romantic movies and James's appalling cooking, then it was back to same old crappy life for James and one even more so for M. Being stuck at home with nothing to do would have been bad enough, but even when she was on crutches, walking and generally moving around was still painful and an enormous effort, so that limited what she could do to occupy herself even more.

On his first day back, James's morning didn't get off to a brilliant start. A combination of the pair of them sleeping in, the toaster deciding to break and then James losing his car keys, only to find that M was sitting on them, and he was twenty minutes late already by the time he was ready to get out of the door.

"You do realise that you're going to get the biggest bollocking of your life from Mallory when you eventually show yourself?" M said as James kissed her goodbye after spending about ten minutes getting her comfortable on the sofa, her Kindle, a mug of Earl Grey and the x amount of painkillers she was supposed to take for that day, but was probably going to 'forget about' later on all lying on the coffee table beside her. "I may be sentimental about you or whatever that idiot said I was, but I don't think the same can be said for him."

"I know but I don't really care," James called across to her as he opened the door and made to leave. "Take care of yourself and don't go anywhere, okay?"

M turned her head to him and muttered just loud enough to be heard; "Do you think that I've got that much choice in the matter?"

"There was no need for that. I'll see you later."

"Sorry I'm late," James walked into Mallory's - or M's, as be was for the moment - office. "We'll be here all day if you need a full explanation, though, so can we not go into that?"

"007, late doesn't begin to cover it. You were meant to be here more than an hour ago." The cheek of that man. M had been gone three weeks and he was already acting like he was in charge permanently.

"Judging by how you've treated her and what you've said to and about her in the past, I don't suppose you give a damn about M?"

"007, I'm not in the mood. And there was no need for that. As a matter of fact, I called her last night and she says she's doing fine-"

"Finally worked out how to use the telephone, have we, sir?" Bond drawled sarcastically, his eyes drifting to the window.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. You're going down to Q department to be physically assessed, then if all goes to plan then you're preparing for a mission in Vietnam. Now shut up and get out of my sight."

Bond did just that, and accidentally shouldered past Summer on his way out. "008," he nodded to her. She smiled, but then said; "Oh, "007, can I have a word?"

"Okay..." Bond followed her a little nervously, and when they were out of sight of Mallory's office, she snapped a little more viciously than she had any right to. "James Bond, you listen to me and you listen well-"

"This is about your mum, isn't it? Look, Summer, don't get your knickers in a twist, I-"

"Shut up and listen! You treat her well,and if you don't then no other woman in the world will take you; that's official, we had a meeting. And if you leave her after all the crap she's been through, I'll kill you and I'll get away with it because I know how."

"You've been watching too much Scott & Bailey," James said, noticing her somewhat threatening quote use.

"You're right, I probably have been. I know what you're like, James. She's worth more than you, so you make sure you're good to her."

James rolled his eyes and turned to the smaller woman in front of him. "Summer, calm down. I know about my reputation for treating women like 'disposable objects' or something, but I learned at Skyfall that your mum is the only person that has ever really mattered to me. I get that you're worked up by all that's happened and you're obviously worried about her, but she's your mother, not the other way around. I'll look after her, I promise."

"Hello, James," Eve smiled at him as they passed on the stairs, James on his way to go and see Q.

"Eve."

She stopped walking and turned to him. "How's M doing?"

"A lot better; she was out of hospital last week, but I'm not letting her work until she's fully healed."

"Bet she's happy with that. Still, I suppose it's better for everyone. Glad to hear she's on the mend. Tell her I said hello, by the way. Sorry I never bothered to come and check up on you two; Mallory's barely let me leave for five consecutive minutes."

"I know, the man's an absolute slave driver. He's sensing me out into the field in a week's time, and after all that. I'm seriously glad he's not in charge permanently, or else I think we'd all die of exhaustion."

"I know," Eve rolled her eyes and kept walking. "Great to hear from you again, James."

"James, if you break this one, next time I'll have you out fighting bad guys with a paperclip and a sharp stick, do you hear me?" Q handed James his new gun, then went back to playing solitaire on his laptop. James laughed. "Bored, are we?"

"James, haven't you got something you need to be doing?" Q sighed, turning round and looking at James over his glasses

"Only a medical in about two hours. I just realised that your hair's longer than M's."

"Your opinion on my personal appearance is always valued," Q muttered under his breath. Then, meaning to be heard this time; "That was Q code for go away, James. Now I've got some virus program I need to set up, do you mind leaving me to it?"

"You're playing bloody solitaire!"

"I said I'm supposed to be doing it; that doesn't necessarily mean that I am."


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry I've left this longer than I usually do. I got banned from the computer. Something to do with being on FanFiction at five am to write the last chapter :/**

**RebaForever15- No, I don't actually watch Scott & Bailey, but I remember you using the quote in a review and I guess I just know how to make you hyper :) **

**Guest- Thank you! This is my first ever Bond/M fic, and I was worried about making them a little OOC, but I guess I didn't. Glad you enjoy it! **

**THANK YOU FOR YOUR REVIEWS, BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE! :) **

**Oh, as you'll know if you've read the summary changes, this story is about to take an unexpected turn...**

* * *

James stepped out of the lift into M and his now shared penthouse apartment, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt and loosening his tie as he went. Quite unsurprisingly, he soon saw M sitting exactly where she had been when he had left that morning, filing her nails into perfect glossed points, her laptop sitting on charge beside her and her legs resting on a white leather pouffe. "Good day?" she asked, not looking up.  
"Probably a lot better than yours," he sat down beside her, kicking off his shoes and putting his feet beside hers. He noticed her flinch, and then moved again. "Sorry. Does it still hurt?"  
M shrugged, pushing herself upwards a little. "It's always a little sore here and there, I just suppose that moving suddenly makes it worse."  
"Sorry," James repeated, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to him, breathing in her familiar smell. "I see you've managed to stay put for the grand total of one day."  
"Just barely," M snorted, leaning her head back against his chest. "I guess I just noticed that my boredom threshold is even more painfully low than it was the last time I checked and just basically sat on my arse all day."  
"I never thought you had it in you," James laughed a little, running his hand through her hair; something that he knew he hated, but owing to the fact she had done nothing earlier regarding her personal appearance, it was already sticking out in all directions, so for once she didn't seem to be too bothered. Well, I have news which you may take as good but probably will react differently at first. I had a medical earlier and apparently I'm not fit for active service. Something to do with cracked ribs or something along those lines. I'm off duty for about as long as you are."  
"I have no idea whether I want to make some kind of huge fuss over you, kiss you or punch your lights out for having the nerve to say that I'm bad when it comes to that kind of thing. Look, I think I might as well say what I've been occupying myself with all day." M picked up her laptop, opened it up, and James watched her fingers fly across the keyboard whilst he watched her.  
"What _were _you doing anyway?"  
"Research," M said simply. "Mallory called last night - at one in the morning, may I add. I think he's letting this 'temporary head of MI6' thing too far. Conventional people are generally asleep then."  
"I guess you're not conventional people then, are you? You've been M for the past seventeen years and what's your personal best in the sleep department?"  
"All of five hours," M noticed his point as she opened up the data files she had been looking for, then continued with what she had been saying before. "Anyway, he went through the whole asking me how I'm doing thing - and I must say, the man's a terrible actor. I could tell that he couldn't really care less - and then said that he's not going to bother running an inquiry into the explosion in my office as whoever did it seems to pose no immediate threat. Well, that's all he knows. It's you and all the other 00s jobs to run about getting yourselves killed; I'm the one who just sits in an office telling you what to do. Me nearly dying, along with you, I think can be classed as immediate threat. Now, I contacted Q and he told me that it was caused by a deliberate electrical fault which led to a power short out and a gas explosion. There are only six people in the world with both the technology to do this and the knowledge on how to actually use it. The first three are me, Q and Astrid Kamikaze-"  
"What, that crazy American kick boxer woman who's in charge of training?"  
M nodded. "That's the one. There is no reason as to why someone within MI6 would do something like that that could have risked the lives of every person in the building, and I would hardly do this to myself, so that rules us out. The fourth is Silva, who's been dead for months now. The fifth is one of the few remaining members of Al Qaeda, but there's nothing that they have against us. And I think the sixth is our culprit." M turned the computer to face James. The file onscreen showed virtually no information, and a picture of a blonde girl with an Eastern-European looking face. "Her name is Zurine Martinique Rodriguez," M explained, watching James's eyes follow the few lines of text. "She's half-Spanish, half-Brazilian and she's legally Colombian. Her mother was a prostitute named Martinique Rosalie Vergara and her father was a Spanish MI6 agent named Tiago Rodriguez, who we've come across before. However, her name was legally changed in 2006 to-"  
James cut her off there, reading the final line of the text aloud under his breath. "Lila Naomi Silva..."


	8. Chapter 8

___Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself - JK Rowling_

* * *

There were certain subjects between Bond and M that were seldom brought up, due to the awkwardity of the resulting situation - M's previous romantic life, Mallory, Skyfall, the chapel and so on - some that were a complete minefield - Vesper, Venice, Turkey, the mission in Rene that had been M's last and resulted in her torture, Quantum, Fields, the second explosion in M's office and the bloody shot - but only one that was absolutely taboo - Silva.

James watched M flinch as he said the name, her eyes fixed ahead of her, nervously wringing her hands in her lap. He could tell that he had opened a wound; now he really didn't want to worsen the situation by looking into it. "I'm going for a shower."

She nodded shakily. "You do that."

He could hear it in her voice and see it in her face as he stood up and made to leave. She was scared.

* * *

_5 Weeks Later..._

"M, first of all, welcome back," Mallory looked across at M, his head slightly to one side, taking in the slight scar down her cheek and her stoic expression.

"Can it, Mallory, as far as I'm concerned, you're still on the wrong side of the desk. Let me guess, voluntary retirement?"

"You're right. Now, I understand that now you're able to work again, you're going to want to get back to it straight away, but we have some issues. The first is that your retirement is in a month's time. Our previous terms are still the same; GCMG with full honours and this time you get a say in your replacement; it's not set in stone yet, so if you don't want me running the show, then so be it. I must say, after the whole thing with Silva, you're lucky that you've not been sacked. The second issue is Silva-"

"What, the one that poses 'no immediate threat' though managed to get through security, blow up my office, hack our computer systems and nearly kill me and 007 on a number of occasions? Well, I did some digging, and apparently he has a daughter. And I think that she was responsible for explosion number two."

"Well, yes, I looked into that too, and I came out with the same findings. But there's another problem. They never found a body."

M stared at him, looking more confused than he'd ever seen her in his life. "What?"  
'In the chapel. Though you both reportedly saw James kill him, we never found Silva's body, even though we had squads of analysts out there for about a month. Still, the pair of them are ghosts; no legal nationality, no location, no ages, dates of birth. They don't technically exist, even."

"Well, I don't know where you're getting your information from, because I uncovered a load about this Lila character that's allegedly his daughter. Okay, Mallory, listening to what you've said, I have a proposal of my own. Only it isn't a proposal; it's compulsory. You can stay in this job from now onwards, and you can keep that bloody GCMG, but I have things I want you to do. Firstly, I want cleared for fieldwork again. I don't care about past tests, it's happening whether you like it or not. Secondly, I want you to shift my retirement to next year. I need time to do what I intend to. I want you to reassign me my old number. You're creating a new mission on which me and James are both going to be on, to hunt down and assassinate Silva, if he's still alive as you say, and Lila. And I want to be the one to kill them."

"M, with all due respect, you could easily be killed yourself." Mallory seemed to be trying to throw her off of it, though why, M didn't know.

"Then that's a risk I'll have to take." M's tone was flat and there was not a trace of anger or resent in it.

"You understand that you'll have to go through all the usual physical exams and training, be declared medically and psychologically fit for service? Given what's happened and your current physical state, I highly doubt that that's a good idea."

"It is in my head, Mallory, and I have absolutely no qualms or regrets about doing this or what may happen to me if I do. Now I am being sent on this mission if it kills me, am I completely clear on that?"

"Crystal," Mallory rolled his eyes at this white-haired iron maiden and her persistence. "If it's what you think the best idea is, then you go ahead."  
'Thank you," M stood up, turning to leave. But when she reached the door, she looked at him again, a cheeky smile on her face."Oh, wait, Mallory? Change of plans. You know my daughter, Summer? I'm having her replace me. You can stick your hopes of staying in this job up your fat arse."


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, just to make something vclear; though Dame Judi's character name in The Best Exoctic Marigold Hotel IS Evelyn and that is also what I have been using for M's real name here, they are in no way whatsoever connected (I watched Skyfall before TBEMH so really didn't know. I've used the same thing as M's real name in everything I refer to her as anything BUT M in, the first of which I worte three months ago. I saw TBEMH yesterday) doImakemyselfcompletelyclear ? (I want to hear a "Yes, ma'am" here)**

* * *

"Evelyn, what on earth are you doing?"  
"I honestly have no idea," James half-laughed at the sight of M sat scowling over the once-broken, now-dismantled toaster. Honestly, he left her alone for ten minutes and this happened. On one side of things, now that she was walking again she seemed a lot less tense and on edge all the time, but on the other she was far more restless. Though on her past hospital visit she had been declared fully healed, James was still reluctant to let her go anywhere until she was meant to go back to work full time - it had been Mallory that insisted she went into MI6 for some meeting earlier on that day - and as a result, the two-hour trip to HQ had been the only time she had been out of the apartment for anything but hospital appointments since she had been discharged. "I took the damned thing apart to try and work out why it kept smoking the other day, but I keep unconsciously trying to turn it into a kind of hand grenade type thing."  
"Oh, yeah. You were one of those agents that specialised in explosives, weren't you?" James dumped the shopping he had ran out for on the available edge of the table, watching M's futile attempt at working out the basic function of the coil of wire now tangled around her wrist. He opened his mouth to make another comment, but she stopped him.  
"Don't. Please."  
Her face was drained of colour and he could clearly see the hurt in her eyes. Of course. When she had been a double O and Silva a trainee, they had been partnered on missions because the pair of them could take out an entire terrorist group from another continent simply by pressing a button. Point and click. She had other reasons for not wanting to talk about her time as an agent, but this was probably the top one now. Being careful about what he said was not something that Bond was used to, but he really needed to aquire the skill and fast. "How did you get on today with Mallory?"  
"Well," M smiled contemptuously, leaning back on her seat. "I think that you might be seeing a lot more of me in the field that usual."  
"Evelyn, what on earth are you on about? God, you've not left Mallory in charge, have you?"  
"No," she was looking somewhat overimpressed with herself as she stood up, accidentally knocking a half-empty glass off the tabe in the process. She sighed through her teeth as it hit the floor and smashed. "I'll get that later. Okay, leaving him in my position was the original plan, but I decided that he's not the one that I really want in charge. And what I'm talking about is I've been re-cleared for field work."  
"God, you're mad! Are you sure that that's a-" James rolled his eyes as M folded her arms over her chest, giving him that cocky yet absolutely bloody stunning smile of hers.  
"Mallory tried to put me off of it as well, but if I've got to leave then I'm not going until I've had one last shot at doing what I love most. I'm still on until the end of the year and the pair of us are being assigned to a mission together to assasinate Lila and Silva as soon as we've completed training."  
"Evelyn, you- Wait, Silva? I thought I killed him months ago."  
M sighed as her face veiled with sadness. "They never found a body. We're just assuming the worst and handling it as if he's definitely still alive."  
"Yeah, but what if you end up-"  
"That's a risk I'm going to have to take. I'm killing him and his daughter if it comes down to it if it's the last thing I damn well do. "  
"Okay, fair enough. But if you're in the field and you kicked mallory out, then who's in charge now?"  
"Summer"

* * *

**Sorry, that was really short! I just had to post another chapter for this cuz i was feeling guilty that I hand't posted in ages! More coming soon...well sooner thn the last time anyway. **


	10. Chapter 10

**This is about three months mashed into one chapter, just snapshots of M's training. I don't think she's going to enjoy it much personally but M being M, that won't really bother her. There also is probably going to be a lot of banter with James too. Listen to 'Eyes Open' by Taylor Swift whilst reading, the lyrics really fit this story, especially;**

**'Everybody's waiting for you to break down,**

**Everybody's watching to see the fallout.'**

**(There's a slight swimming fixation here as for some reason unknown aspects of M that you don't know about and I make up reflect off of me on some occasions)**

**Lisca- Thank you!**

**alanna of olua- I'm going with unstoppable team - I would kill myself if I killed M with this. I thought having Summer in charge of MI6 would be pretty cool and I intend to have her laying it into Mallory after what he's about to do in the next chapter...**

**Boozoo- Em...Okay. I for one like Silva (HOT!) so you need to do your reasearch next time.**

**Dr Peeves- I would have too - but he only has about three different facial expressions, so I doubt it would have been too funny.**

**ILOVECHIPS- Thank you for almost getting me murdered with that review.**

**RebaForever15- Yes, it should be :) She definetly is getting to kill Lila this time (as for Silva... *spoiler alert* that mey not be neccesary...)**

* * *

"You're not training to compete; you just need to know what you're doing. That means no tumble turns, no stroke counts and no technique work," M telling herself silently just to cut her usual crap and get on with what she was meant to be doing rang around inside her head as she held herself up on the edge of the pool, water streaming down her face. "None of that matters."

It was taking a bit of getting used to, the unfamiliar lack of power, but M didn't bother retaliating as she instinctively curled her legs into her stomach and pushed off again, her arms snapping into faultless streamline poise.

She sailed without moving her body for roughly fifteen meters before accidentally inhaling and thrashing to the surface, gasping for air.

"Didn't know you could swim."

"Didn't think you were going to be down here today, so I suppose that we're both full of surprises," following diving under, grabbing the opposite side of the pool and climbing out, M spoke drily as she turned to face James, shaking water from her hair.  
"I'm serious. You're absolutely bloody brilliant."  
"Well, I suppose I have to be. I was approached for the Paralympic team in 1988."  
"Para?"  
"Long story. Freak accident involving a Parisian drugs cartel and a shotgun. Damage to my knee meant that I couldn't walk for ages and they thought that I was going to have to leave MI6, but I was offered a new post here, so I refused."

"You see some of the stuff that I don't know about you?"

* * *

"You still going?" James gasped after about ten minutes going at twelve MPH on a treadmill, M beside him and in the proces of doing the exact same.  
"You're not?" her tone was light, though James could tell that she was struggling for breath by now. Her irritating ease of movement maybe got under his skin a little as he toweled the sweat from his face.  
"Aren't you supposed to be the one that broke her leg three months ago?"  
"Yes, but-" M screamed a little as she turned her head, broke focus and fell backwards off of the machine's moving belt, skidding on her side for about six feet before crashing into a wall. "I'm fine, thank you for asking." James laughed at her indignant banter as she got up, wincing as she put weight on her right leg and investigating her bloody elbow.  
"You get told not to do things for a reason. For example, there' s a good reason behind 'don't try and argue with your mission/romantic/sexual partner whilst on a treadmil'."  
"You just made that up!"

* * *

James walked onto the firing range to find M scowling at a human-shaped target with a load of bulletholes around the edges, a gun in her hand and fire in her eyes.  
"Pretending it's me, are you?"  
"No," M turned around, and James noticed her pained expression. "You know, I absolutely bloody hate this. "not the whole filedwork thing, but this specifically." She gestured to the target before snapping, sending it downrange to fifty meters and firing again, the jolt from the gun skidding her backwards a little.  
"Right. So, I can see that you're sorely lacking in the 00 'killer instinct' thing?"  
"No, it's there," M turned to him, chewing her lip and trying to look determined. As she trained her gaze, shifting her firing arm a little and then quickly tightening her trigger finger in a swift motion, sh gave a content smile as the bullet hit the target square in the forehead. "I just have to find it again."

* * *

Leaving the MI6 building the night before her final physical exam before the mission, it occurred to M that absolutely bloody terrified was a complete understatement when it came to describing how she felt regarding it. He was frightening, everything about Silva terrified her and if he was still alive...

A spasm convulsed her as memories of the night at Skyfall flashed in her memory. No, you can't give up. You can't give in to him again. He broke you once, that has to be admitted, but he can't do it again. You won't let him. James won't let him.


	11. Chapter 11

"This is your final training session before you're both sent on the mission," M couldn't see so much as her own hand in front of her face in the pitch dark, but heard the Texan accent of Astrid Kamikaze, MI6's head espionage instructor. "And my personal favourite course; torture endurance. The point here is to see if you can handle both the physical and mental strain that will come in the unlikely event that the pair of you are caught and tortured. In other words, seeing if you can handle pain without shitting yourselves. 005, 007, the pair of you are going to have your faces held underwater to the point of passing out, and when you come to, you have to try not to react and no matter what I or my lovely assistants do to you, you cannot, I repeat CANNOT do anything that would give away your position if the simulation was in fact reality. What we're doing is basically shooting you. However, since we'd all be completely buggered if something happens to either of you, as much as I'd like using the real deal, we're using grade three training simulation rounds, which are basically compressed powder that breaks up as soon as it hits you and won't do any kind of lasting damage. Still, they are being fired from real rifles and they will hurt. 005, since I am aware that you're recuperating from a leg injury, everyone is under strict instructions not to shoot you anywhere below the waist. If we're all clear on that, we'll begin. Good luck."

Hands dug into M's shoulders as someone else got hold of a hank of her hair and forced her head down into water, ice cold and giving the feeling that it was biting chunks from her flesh. She spluttered as she inhaled it through nose and mouth at the same time, her eyes stinging and entire body fighting against her bonds. She turned far enough to see James not quite three feet away from her, his pale auburn hair swirling around his head and bubbles slowly rising from his nose. He saw her thrashing frantically, sheer panic written all over her face, and shook his head at her. Struggling would simply make it all the worse for her. Still, he watched in anguish as her face disappeared from his line of vision.

M breathed deeply as her face came up from the water again, but a spasm of coughing seized hold of her before she got the opportunity to get her breath back. Still choking, he head was forced under again.

"The next one of you to try and fight back is being given an automatic fail, and as you know this means fieldwork suspension regardless of terms made prior," Kamikaze's voice was oddly distorted as M's head was underwater, but she could still make out the harsh tones ordering her around. She rolled her eyes, loosened her muscles and simply held he breath until she blacked out...

* * *

A panic seized hold of M as she felt a gun barrel probing her arm in the blackness. As images of her past that she never wished to repeat flashed in front of her, she struggled against the plastic cuffs clamped tight around her wrists. As her blind panic subsided and she regained the ability to think straight, a smack of realization hit her square in the face and she muttered; "I bet this was Mallory's bloody brilliant idea."

"What?" James's husky voice gave her a little comfort as her scenario pieced together in her mind.

"This course. Mallory didn't want me to go, god knows why, and even though I put Summer in charge I left it to him to set up the mission and any prior training. How could I have been such a bloody idiot?"

"Yes, but what's the problem? It's not like-"

"He's read my file," M explained through stilted intakes of breath, still attempting to free herself from her bonds and hoping that the panic attack she felt coming wasn't actually going to happen. "He knows that I completely fall apart in a torture situation and that this is probably a way to get me to fail."

"Summer - sorry, M, would you bloody do something?" James cried out as M's breath became stilted and uneasy, coming in frantic gasps. He turned in her vague direction, still unable to see her in the darkness. "Are you okay?"

"Hyperventilating - can't - _breathe_!" The basic signs he was getting was that M was having a panic attack or something of the sort. God, this torture phobia really was bad. At this, he snapped.

"SUMMER!"

"I'm sorry, Bond, but there's nothing I can do," the masculine and irritatingly cocky voice of Gareth Mallory definitely wasn't that of the newly-appointed M. "I guess you're just going to have to stand back and let her flunk it, unlike she did for you."

"MALLORY YOU BASTARD! DO SOMETHING!" James was going crazy now, wanting to choke the life out of Mallory. He heard M's sharp and uneasy intakes of breath, and then Mallory's voice again.

"I'm sorry but - OW! Astrid, why the hell would you _do_ that!?"

The lights glared on and as M's figure, upright, sweating and completely white in the face came into view. As the trainers drew back, the tattooed, black-haired six-foot ex-kickboxer that was Astrid Kamikaze stormed onto the scene, followed by mallor, who was clutching a bloody nose. Astrid hastily unlocked M and James's handcuffs before holding a still-hyperventilating M up and barking into a radio; "Can we get some kind of medic down here please?"

She turned to James and grimaced. "Sorry that that freakin' jerk put you two through this. I don't know what his problem with M is, but I wasn't going to sit and let this happen to the woman that saved my goddamn life just 'cause of his spite."

"M saved-"

"I was one of the six that near died when Rodriguez got gave up," as a medic ran in and got M into a sitting position with her head between her legs, Kamikaze smiled. "I owe my life to that woman, so if this is what she wants then she's gonna damn get it. I can change test results easy; it was her that got me to do yours."

* * *

"I suppose it's kind of ironic," M and James were both sitting outside of the medical room, and oxygen mask over M's face which she had pulled a few inches in front of her mouth so she could speak and an inhaler in her hand. "Quite a pair we are; a physical wreck and an emotional one too. Bit stupid really how someone like me can be prone to trauma-induced panic attacks and asthma, on occasion both simultaniously. I still can't believe that Mallory would do that. I mean - I hate him and all but he took a bullet for me. I would never have thought that he had it in for me like that."

"The man's an utter waste of space. Are you sure you're okay?"

M half-laughed, bringing on a slight coughing fit. "I'll be fine. I suppose I was learning how to shoot ten years before you were even born."

"That would have made you...what, twelve?"

"Thirteen. My circumstances were similar to yours; both parents died young, except both were agents and I had to become adult overnight; thrown into Six when I was fifteen after training for two years. Anyway, if Silva couldn't bring himself to kill me then what are the odds of him torturing me, especially since he has a chronic fear of it himself."


	12. Chapter 12

"You got enough air in there?" James enquired jokingly, staring into M's open handbag as the pair of them stood in the lift down to Summer - now M's - office, packed in with a few other agents and a rather overzealous Q Branch intern who had been seemingly trying her level best to annoy the crap out of M by asking her how her leg was on at least three occasions.

"James, shut up and stop being stupid," M scowled warningly at James. The lift stopped and she was slammed into a wall by the six or so people crowding out, rather to James's amusement. "That wasn't funny. Try and act like some kind of civilised human being and wipe that smirk off your face."

"What, are you worried about getting your arse handed to you by your daughter?"

"No, I'm worried that Mallory's going to be there and that I won't be able to show enough restraint to keep from punching his lights out. What happened yesterday was totally uncalled for."

James had to admit that he'd quite fancied the idea of throttling the bloody idiot with his own tie after seeing M in the kind of state she'd been in yesterday.

After three months of seeing her in various combinations of ripped tracksuit bottoms, tank tops, swimsuits and sport crop tops, looking at her now in one of her usual black suits was a little alien, but now that she was back in her familiar domain for the time being instead of the training compound that made up the very bottom floor of MI6 HQ she seemed back to her usual self. Well, the aloof, snarky and irritable version, anyway.

As the two stepped out of the lift, M said quietly; "I do have my gun in my bag just in case."

* * *

"M - sorry, 005, I have to say I'm really, really sorry about yesterday," Mallory turned to M as she walked into her old office, surveyed by Summer.

"I don't give a damn. I have no idea what your issue with me is, but you know that I fall apart in that kind of situation - and there's no chance of that happening on the mission anyway - so I still don't know why you set me up to do it." M scowled, James and Summer watching her and Mallory facing off.

"No, I mean that I'm sorry I never pulled you out before Kamikaze punched me in the face," M couldn't help but laugh at the fact that Mallory now more-or-less resembled a panda. "I didn't know that you...freaked out, for lack of a better phrase, like that. But I had nothing to do with fixing the course up."

"Up your arse," M contemptuously raised an eyebrow, letting out a small snort of disgust. "Who did then?" Summer threw up her hands in a getsure indicating that she had nothing to do with it.

"That's the thing," The way that Summer folded her arms over the desk reminded M scarily of herself. "I got Q to assess it; we were hacked. Someone, presumably Silva, got in, read your file and then messed with the training layout so that you would ultimately fail and then not be sent out after him. As a result, and since the course actually wasn't nessecary at all, you're still going. We're running an investigation into the second explosion," at this she shot a warning glare at Mallory. "Despite some people's best intenitons. We're in the process of traking Silva and this Lila character that's apparently his daughter by the computers they keep using to get into our systems and by the looks of things, they're on the island again. If all goes as planned, the pair of you will be out there within the week. You still up for it?"

It was James that spoke now. "After what he's done, I swear to God, I'm going to lay it into that bastard if it's the last thing I do."

* * *

As James and M walked out of MI6, the mood was a little lighter than it had had been as they had entered, the issue with Mallory having been resolved. However, that wasn't to last. As James heard a thunder-like noise, he whipped round, just spotting the aftermath of an explosion in a penthouse apartment on the opposite side of the Thames. "What the bloody hell was that!?"

As M turned, he watched her swallow a sob. "That was my apartment."


End file.
